I Don't Want to Die
by omgromance
Summary: "Don't look at me like that," She snapped at him. Her green eyes met his with a fierce stare. He cocked his head to the side, "Like what?" She addressed Finnick. "Like I'm some pig up for slaughter. I know I am, but I certainly don't need you of all people giving me pity." Determination rang from his smooth voice, "I don't think it's your last day on earth, not at all."


**Just a little Finnick & Annie story I had stuck in my head. This takes place on the night before Annie's games begin. **

Finnick lay in his bed in the mentor's room at the capitol. He's been trying to get to sleep for almost two hours now. He was trying to convince himself that it was because of all the bad memories that the Hunger Games brought up for him. But that wasn't the truth. The truth is his brain kept going back to this one person, Annie Cresta. The female tribute he was mentoring. But he shouldn't be thinking about her. He _can't_ be thinking about her.

About the way everything she said and did seemed so purposeful. About the way her dark hair swung behind her as she walked. About the way her glimmering green eyes contained more emotion at any given moment then he could portray in a whole novel.

But she was a tribute in the games. The odds by herself were not in her favor. But he convinced himself that with him, maybe, just maybe, the odds could be in her favor.

He dragged a bronzed hand over his face and swung his feet over the side of his bed. He made his way to the lounge. He hoped that he could find some alcohol to muffle his thoughts.

Finnick opened the door to the room and saw none other the dark haired beauty herself, Annie Cresta.

She was staring out the window, watching the city lights twinkle.

He took a few more steps into the room. Then he loudly cleared his throat. She jumped with surprise, her green eyes widening at the sight of him.

Finnick gave a chuckle, "Didn't mean to startle you."

She tightened her composure and positioned herself to the window again. "What are you doing up this late?"

He took another few steps till he was right in front of her, looking down at her, arms folded, with a small trace of a smirk. "It seems I'm the one who should be asking you that. You're going into the games tomorrow, as your mentor I feel I should say sleeping is a bit of a must."

"Don't look at me like that," She snapped at him. Her green eyes met his with a fierce stare.

He cocked his head to the side, "Like what?"

"Like I'm some pig up for slaughter. I know I am, but I certainly don't need you of all people giving me pity." She spat out at Finnick.

Finnick was taken back; he was so surprised that he completely slipped up on his act for a moment. He raised his eyebrows and glanced around. He wanted to make sure the coast was clear if he was going to put down the façade for a minute. He sat down next to her, about a half foot away.

"Forgive me for trying to give you some advice. Rule number one, if you're asleep after the first hour it's not very promising," He hissed back. Annie looked rather relieved at what he says. "What's up with the happy expression?"

"Just… it's the first time you've seemed like a kid from district four," She whispered. "Besides if this is my last day to live. I hardly want to spend it sleeping in the same sheets that housed all the others who've died. Murdered children."

"I don't think it's your last day on earth, not at all," determination rang from Finnick's smooth voice.

Annie gave him a small, sad smile, "Didn't take you for an optimist."

Finnick raised an eyebrow and scooted a bit closer, "Between you and me darling, I'm not. I just… just believe in you."

Annie and Finnick locked eyes. Mimicking each other's postures, one side leaned up against the couch, their left hands both resting on the couch in between them inches apart.

Finnick picked up his right hand and carefully touched his finger pads to her cheek. He skimmed her cheekbone to her chin, all the while never breaking eye contact. Annie's heart rate sped up.

"I don't want to die," she whispered.

He locked his jaw and searched her expressive eyes for what emotions she was feeling. It seemed to be all of them. He put his warm hands on each side of her face. Finnick breath quickened. They were only inches apart.

"You won't," he coaxed. Then, all in an instance their lips met. They moved in sync, bodies messed together.

Annie pulled away as quickly as they had met. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that."

"I'm glad you did," he stated firmly. They both kind of just looked at each other for a while, maybe a minute, maybe an hour, neither could tell. They lost no time drinking each other up.

Eventually Annie broke the gaze. Her eyes fixated down on her lap. Then she stood up, not meeting his eyes, "I should go."

As she started to leave, Finnick caught her hand. "I'm behind you, all the way."

"Goodnight," she whispered. She briefly meet his eyes just once more, lingering a moment. Then she quickly walked out of the room.

Finnick just watched the doorway that she had walked through. What the hell was that? What the hell was he going to do? He didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow, or the next few days. But all he knew was that he was going to do whatever he could to get Annie home.

He felt he could spend a lifetime or three thinking about how he felt for her. But that night he spent going over every single person in the Capitol who owned him a favor.

Oh shit, the feeling of his lips on hers. He wasn't sleeping again till she was back in District Four.

**So that was just a quick little one-shot I had stuck in my head. In other news I'm still not over Catching Fire, especially Finnick. I mean Sam Claflin is perfection. Reviews/comments always appreciated! **


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